


Each to Each

by EvaBelmort



Category: Hannibal (TV)
Genre: Implied/Referenced Sexual Assault, Mermaid Abigail, Possibly Cannibalism?, SeaWitch Hannibal, merman will
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-10-11
Updated: 2016-10-11
Packaged: 2018-08-21 21:36:32
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,338
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8261185
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/EvaBelmort/pseuds/EvaBelmort
Summary: Visitors were a rarity in Hannibal’s life, and two in as many days quite unheard of. In which Will visits a Sea Witch searching for his missing ward.





	

**Author's Note:**

> Sort of a Little Mermaid AU. Definitely not Disney, though, and Hans Christian Anderson would probably have conniptions.  
> Putting this up for Day 11 of the [Hannictober prompt calendar](http://the-winnowing-wind.tumblr.com/post/150969260494/hannictober-2016-creative-calendar), 'Witches'. Sea witches count, right?

Visitors were a rarity in Hannibal’s life, and two in as many days quite unheard of. Only the truly desperate were willing to travel through the labyrinth of coral and artfully arranged bones which surrounded his home, water snakes twining through them like lively (and lethal) vines, and they tended to be few and far between. His previous visitor had been terrified but determined, the way they usually were, shying every time a serpent moved and starting at shadows. This one seemed entirely unconcerned about the snakes and the bones, but his eyes darted from side to side constantly as though he were searching for something. That it was a ‘he’ was even more unusual: Hannibal had never been visited by a mer _man_ before. 

Mermaids ran to jewel colours, bright flashy things designed to attract notice, while their male counterparts tended to be more subdued. The previous day's guest had had copper-toned brown hair and vivid emerald scales pleasantly contrasted against pale skin; the merman’s colouring was similar but all of it in drab shades barely visible against the ocean floor. His hair was short for a mer and hung around his bone-white face in dark tangles; there was kelp caught in it. He didn’t appear to notice as he swam uncertainly through Hannibal’s door, and then hesitated, peering around in the gloom.

Hannibal obligingly touched one of the lamps, igniting it with an eerie phosphorescent glow, and slithered forward, letting his tentacles cling to the wall and pull him down in as unsettling a display as he could manage.

“Welcome,” he purred.

The merman tilted his head in Hannibal’s direction, and his gaze flicked almost absently over Hannibal’s outstretched limbs before settling somewhere around his left ear. “A mermaid came to you yesterday, didn’t she? Asking to be made human.”

Hannibal frowned, eyes narrowing. “It is generally considered polite to introduce oneself before making demands,” he said coolly. “And what if one did?” It was surely too soon for her to have gone to her relatives seeking aid. 

The merman twitched, a convulsive movement of fingers and tail flukes, and seemed to settle himself with an effort. “I-Yeah. Sorry. Hello, I’m Will, I’m looking for a maid named Abigail. She’s my...” The merman chewed his lip for a moment, tensely, then went on, “...ward. Did you agree?”

He was certainly single-minded. “Hello, Will. My name is Hannibal.” Hannibal inclined his head. “And yes, I did. The standard arrangement.”

Will’s jaw tightened. “Ah.” He dragged a hand through his hair, fingers snagging on the piece of kelp and pulling it free absently. He frowned at it, then looked up, his eyes getting as far as Hannibal’s cheekbone this time. “Can I ask, just, has it ever ended well?”

Hannibal arched a brow inquiringly, and the merman flicked a hand irritably. “I know the story, the old one, the one everyone’s heard. But does it ever really go like that, when a human man finds a beautiful naked woman on a beach, who can’t talk but is happy to follow him anywhere? Does he ever _actually_ marry her?”

Hannibal’s polite smile twisted, the memory of Mischa's limp body drifting with the tide unfurling behind his eyelids. “Not... to my knowledge, no. I believe most of the unfortunate maids die. Or, if they have family who are willing to bargain for them, they return to the sea, covered in the blood of their intended lovers.”

Will nodded. “That’s what I thought. So, since I doubt my hair would be worth much, what do you want? For the knife. That’s how it works, right?”

Hannibal raised both eyebrows this time, gliding a little closer in sudden interest. “You do not intend to wait until his wedding night?”

“Because marrying somebody else is the worst thing he could do to her?” Will snapped. “Don’t be obtuse.”

Hannibal’s frowned. “How very cynical of you. Are you always this abrupt? Or is it merely fear that makes you rude?”

Will chewed his lip again, irritably. “If I’m offending you, I apologise. I’m not very good at...” he waved a hand vaguely, “people. And of course I’m afraid. She’s been gone all night and I have an overactive imagination.”

“You fear for your ward, then. But not for yourself?”

“Abigail. Her name is Abigail. And. Well. You’re dangerous, I see that. But I’m... otherwise occupied right now.”

“You see me?” Hannibal smiled, showing a double row of razored teeth, his tentacles writhing closer to his guest menacingly. “And you still see your own welfare as a secondary concern?”

“Yes.” The merman’s eyes flicked over his mouth thoughtfully, and he reeked of fear, but as it had neither increased nor lessened in intensity the entire time, he was very likely speaking the truth.

“Very well,” Hannibal said thoughtfully. “I will give you the knife now, and you will come to my home at sunset for the next three nights and share a meal with me. If you can be civil for those three nights, I will return to you the voice of your Abigail.”

Will’s eyes wandered up his face, then the merman hesitated, clearly steeling himself, and met Hannibal’s eyes. Hannibal knew his eyes were unnerving, slit-pupilled, the colour of old blood, and there were rumours (there were always rumours) that he could enslave with a glance. Will himself had surprisingly lovely eyes, greenish-blue flecked with amber and brown, fringed with long dark lashes, so it was a shame that making eye contact was clearly hard on him. His gills fluttered frantically, tail twitching, and then he went still, gaze losing focus, hazy and far away as if he had lost consciousness. It would not be the first time Hannibal had seen someone pass out from sheer dread in his presence, but before he could do more than catch Will’s elbow, the merman blinked and shook himself. He glanced down at Hannibal’s hand, startled, and then coloured slightly, a delicate shade of teal creeping over his cheeks and throat. “Ah, sorry, I was just- looking. Um, anyway. Yes.”

“Yes?” Hannibal inquired, amused, as he retreated to a more polite distance.

“Yes. Dinner. Three nights. Uh, I hope your definition of ‘civil’ isn’t too strict. I’m not exactly good company most of the time. I mean, if I had better social skills, Abigail might have-“ he broke off, looking pained, shook himself again. “Yeah. So. I can’t promise scintillating conversation or anything. But I’ll be here.”

"All I ask is that you not be _deliberately_ rude,” Hannibal responded, turning away, tentacles sliding across his shelving to anchor as he slipped into a crevice, finding the object with ease. He’d made sure he had one ready as soon as the mermaid had left, just in case. The worst times, the ones that made him angriest, were when nobody came, leaving the foolish creatures to their own devices. He didn’t really blame the mermaids themselves, more those who spread those wretched fanciful tales of earthbound lovers who would fall in love with a girl for her face and form and devoted heart and offer marriage and a life of blissful happiness.

He held out the knife curled in a tentacle and Will took it, unhesitating despite the brush of Hannibal's smooth limb against his fingers as they curled about the handle. He paused just long enough to offer a shaky smile and a surprisingly earnest, "Thank you," in Hannibal's direction, and then he slipped back out the door. Hannibal watched for a few moments more, but he was quickly lost to sight, fast and silent as a seal now that he knew the way. 

~#~#~#~#~#~#~

Hannibal had to admit, he was quite surprised when Will came back several hours later. Surprises, in his experience, were even rarer than visitors. Still, there was Will at his door, and clinging nervously to his arm, half-hidden behind him, was his young ward Abigail. Hannibal felt his eyes widen, somewhere between pity and delight, because Abigail’s fingers were wrapped around Will’s arm so tightly she would very likely leave bruises, and instead of emerald scales she now had a nervously-writhing mass of tentacles, so dark a green as to be almost black in much the same way that Hannibal’s own were actually a deep, deep red. “Ah,” Hannibal managed, eloquently.

Will gave him a wry smile. “Yeah. Hi. Um, thanks again for this,” he proffered the knife, and Hannibal took it, almost absently, eyes flicking between Will and Abigail, “and, could we, maybe, ask a few questions?”

“Of course. Would you like to come in?”

Abigail’s fingers tightened, her nails actually drawing blood. Will met her eyes for a flickering second, then looked back to Hannibal. “Uh, maybe not at the moment, sorry.”

Hannibal nodded. The maid had clearly undergone a traumatic experience; if she wished to have the conversation on his doorstep, that was acceptable. "Very well. Ask away."

"So. Are tentacles a... standard side effect? Or did that have something to do with Abigail eating the human instead of just bathing in his blood?"

Hannibal blinked. Will didn't seem particularly concerned about that, despite it being arguably cannibalism. "It is a side effect of eating human flesh, yes. However, I understand that without the presence of the transformation spell it would require repeated exposure over months or perhaps years to reach this level of alteration."

"Okay." Will frowned. "Is it reversible?"

Abigail flinched, then thrashed violently away from him, clearly still awkward with her new limbs but desperate for distance.

Will twisted, following her only a little way, then holding out his hands pleadingly. "Abigail, hey, calm down. I'm not saying you have to change back. I don't care what you look like. I just want you to know what your options are." The maid hesitated, her limbs slowing their frantic motions, so Will kept talking. "I know that right now all you want is to kill anybody who comes near you, but you might not always feel that way. I just want you to be happy, you know that, right? If that means you want to have more teeth than Winston, then I'm all for it. At least then I- No, actually, I'm still going to worry whenever you're out of my sight, but at least there'll be less reason for-"

He made a rather amusing little squeak when Abigail slammed into him in an ungainly thrashing tangle, but when she then enveloped him in a tightly-clinging and possibly quite painful hug, he didn't seem to mind in the least. The way he patted her hair and made shushing sounds was a little uncertain, but he also appeared entirely unconcerned with the sharp hooks of her tentacles drawing blood all over his tail. It was quite a lovely image, actually, and Hannibal was busy fixing it properly in his memory for later contemplation when he noticed a large shark slowly circling closer to his visitors. Most predators, and anything else reasonably intelligent, stayed well away from Hannibal's home, but the traces of Will's blood in the water could well have drawn it in. It was, Hannibal allowed, quite delicious, but that was no excuse. He slipped out the door, murmuring, "Excuse me a moment," as he passed them. Will turned to see what he was looking at, and said, "Oh, no, don't worry about him."

Hannibal hesitated. "I beg your pardon?"

"That's Winston," Will said easily, his hands sliding free of Abigail's hair as she disentangled herself. "There's probably a couple of others around, but they'll leave when we do."

Hannibal blinked. "Ah, I see. In answer to your earlier question, Abigail may eventually return to her original state, provided she does not devour any further humans. It will, without the use of magic, take rather a long time."

Will drummed his fingers against his hip thoughtfully. "So, as long as it would have taken to change in the first place?"

"Exactly."

"Okay." Will nodded, more to himself than Hannibal. "Is there anything we need to know immediately?"

Hannibal arched an eyebrow. "In what sense?"

"Well, is she going to have suddenly developed any new allergies or dietary needs? Does she need to keep moving to breathe?"

"Oh! No, nothing of the sort." He looked at Abigail, and unlike Will she met his eyes without hesitation, so he held her gaze as he went on, "You will need to be careful when angry or frightened, since you are considerably more dangerous now," and he looked pointedly at Will, watched the colour drain from Abigail's face as she took in the oozing blood marking the tracks of her new limbs across his scales. "That is only a danger to others, though. As to your own health, it should remain unchanged. No strange new needs, although you will prefer meat now, of course."

"Of course," Will murmured, giving Abigail a reassuring if somewhat weary smile. He held out a hand, and after a moment she took it, though her tentacles went on shifting uncertainly.

Will glanced up at Hannibal, gaze flicking across his face before settling somewhere around his nose. "Thank you, Hannibal. I... think we're going to go now, it's been a long day. I'll see you at sunset?"

"I shall look forward to it. Good day to you, William and Abigail."

The maid looked confused, but she gave Hannibal a little wave with her free hand and they set off. The shark circled them once, fins brushing against Will's tail flukes, and then kept pace with them easily, swimming just behind Will's shoulder. 

Hannibal found that his mouth had stretched into a wide smile without his conscious attention, but there was no-one to see, so he let it stay as he slipped back into his lair to see what he had on hand for dinner. It would have to be sublime indeed to coax Will into returning for more than just three nights, but he felt that he was equal to the task; today's surprises had been remarkably inspirational.


End file.
